November 21 - “My neighbor screamed …”

I had an “interesting” encounter yesterday with … well, maybe it’s best that I just share the story. Here’s how it happened …

As Chris concentrated on her latest sewing project, and I watched some mindless TV, there came a knock at the door. It was clearly a lady in distress (in the person of our next door neighbor).  Seems she had a flat tire in her driveway and needed a jack. Another neighbor had offered his,  but couldn’t get it to fit. I pulled ours from the car. Note here that it had never before been released from the shackles that had bound it since the car was first purchased so many years and so many miles ago. 

I made my way over there, and did my best to find some portion of their car frame that would allow my notched-for-a-Chevy-Equinox-only jack to lift the car enough to pull off the blown tire. So far, so good. 

The tire came off, but the obvious next task was to get the tire replaced. The neighbor with the too-tall jack offered to drive the tire to the shop. He didn’t have room in his seat for a passenger, though. We assumed she would wait for his return. But no. Before we knew it, she was crawling into a car with … an Uber driver. 

Before she left, though, I explained more than once that the jack was not made for their car and could slip at any time, so they needed to make sure no one came anywhere near the car while they took the tire to be replaced. All was assured. And off they went, tire in hand. 

Not long after, the knock came at the door that the tire was back, albeit with a slightly bent rim and a ponderously glued new tire upon it. I was needed because the now-inflated tire wouldn’t fit on the rim yet. Needed to be a little higher. 

And so I resumed my cranking, which, by the way, involved me lying alternatively on my back or my side with both arms and part of my head craned under the car. The more I cranked, the more difficult it became. As it was, I could only go about a quarter of a turn at a time. But I kept at it. 

Until … 

Just as I reached the end of a particularly demanding crank, BAM!! The jack slipped out of its increasingly precarious perch. And the result? Yep. The full weight of the car came crashing down. Somehow - in the grand scheme and divine plan of a gloriously forgiving God - it missed. Well, not entirely. I did get a scratch on my arm. And a tiny scrape on a knuckle. My neighbor screamed (surprised you didn’t hear it), “Oh, my precious Lord Jesus!”  Just between you and me, that’s probably the closest she’s come to praying since we’ve known her. 

I retrieved my jack from under the car, and apologized that it did exactly what I warned them it might do. She refused to accept that apology, however. Instead she profusely apologized to me, saying, “I’m just so glad you weren’t under there.” I assured her that apparently God was not done with me quite yet.  She replied, “Oh, no, Mister Kelley. No, he’s not!”  

No, Dear Neighbor. And he’s not done with you, either. 

Isaiah‬ ‭9‬:‭2‬ ‭ says, The people walking in darkness have seen a great light; a light has dawned on those living in the land of darkness.

Father, what else can I say? Thank you that I am still alive. Amen.